Ashes to Ashes
by Lunar
Summary: A brief continuation of the events at the end of Vagrant Story, shonen-ai themes
1. part1

**Ashes to Ashes: **part 1

A discussion on the topics of the past, the present, the future, and roads less traveled.

* * *

"…. in the span of one week, a life can be completely changed."

-Ashley

* * *

Note: "VKP" - "Valendia Knights of the Peace" A UN-like peacekeeping force controlled by the Valendian Senate.

The small hut showed obvious signs of recent neglect; thick coats of dust layered any exposed surfaces and the grimy leaded windows let in little of the moonlight. Underneath the dirt and litter, however, the house was dry and sturdy as promised, and under the dusty down comforter, the bed proved clean and soft as Ashley gently lowered his burden onto it. Carefully arranging the quilts and pillows around his nearly comatose companion, he stared in wonder at the man's shallow breathing as he gently removed the crude bandages. It was no simple wound that revealed itself in the half-light of his little lantern. A swatch of skin was missing, spanning across both shoulders and from neck to lower back. The gaping sore revealed muscles, bones, and fibers, ones that were usually properly shielded from view on all but the cadavers that surgeons studied. Ashley hissed in sympathy as he inspected the still-bleeding area and the additional deep puncture where Guildenstern's rapier had run completely through his companion's abdomen. 

// Any other man would've died in minutes… Or if not then, when the roof collapsed on him, or surviving that, when he was half-dragged, half-carried for miles out of a burning, crumbling city. Living through those things, I suppose it was nothing for him to be carried though the nearly ten miles of forest we crossed today without rest or food, stopping only long enough to bind him up to keep him from bleeding to death… //

Muttering a curse at the setting moon, the fighter paused in his ministrations to light a fire with the solitary lantern he had thought to obtain in the village before returning to his charge. Sydney remained unmoving, indeed nearly unaware of the world that existed beyond his pain-wracked body.His skin was pale and cool. His deathlike appearance was belied only by the tremors that shook his frail body and the slow spread of dark wet stain on his flesh. Ashley frowned, worried. In a fit of lucidity earlier in the day, the mage had boasted that his recovery was assured, but the day's travel had been hard, and within hours his companion had lost the energy to even whimper his distress, much less voice his opinion on his condition. Having cleaned and re-wrapped the blonde's chest, and assured Sydney would live for the moment, Ashley allowed himself to collapse onto a stool by the fire, realizing that this was the first time he had truly stopped moving in almost sixty hours. He smiled grimly as he peeled off his battered armor, realizing that no amount of polishing would remove some of the chips and scratches. Pads and bracers that had started this most recent adventure glossy and well-tended had become pale shadows of their former strength.

// It has been an /exciting/ day. Or rather almost three days… Funny, after everything that happened, it was the last battle that did the most damage… Without the scraps and supplies available in that cursed city, I now have no way of replacing or repairing what is damaged. Damn you, Guildenstern... You just /had/ to die /dramatically/... Were you so afraid to go into the Dark alone? // 

The knight snorted at his own dark humor and unconsciously rolled his shoulders, feeling the skin on his back twitch and burn in unfamiliar and disturbing ways. He dreaded seeing what a mirror would almost certainly tell him, what Agent Merlose had already stared at, wide-eyed and disbelieving. 

// Most people… //

His thoughts drifted idly for a moment as exhaustion finally obtained a hold on his body. He stared, captivated, by the play of light and shadow on his hands from the flickering fire. 

// Most people would think it odd for a grown man to be terrified of a tattoo. Then again, most people would've died of fright having seen the things I've seen today, the things I /killed/ today. Was I afraid? I can't even remember…. It's like some sort of bad dream…. nothing that has happened seems real. // 

Struggling to remember exactly when recent events had slipped out of his usually iron control, his cold logic gave only one answer.Ashley turned once more to watch Sydney. The younger man had fallen into a tenuous sleep, his face tight and drawn with pain, pale even in the warm glow of the firelight. Light gleamed, sinister on cold metal, as one of his 'arms' dangled limply over the edge of the small bed, fingertips brushing the floor. In repose they looked simply bizarre; without his will controlling and guiding them they were mere armor and levers, lifeless and inanimate. They gave Sydney a disturbingly disorderly appearance, reminding Ashley vaguely of one of his son's toys, a doll left fallen in a heap and forgotten, /broken/. Ashley winced as his thought flowed naturally from that memory to the last, all /too/ familiar memory of his son. Desperate to not relive that moment yet again, he concentrated on his immediate surroundings: the forest noises outside, the crackling of the fire, the way the sleeping man's hair almost glowed golden in the firelight. He would have looked almost childlike if not for his pained expression and obvious exhaustion. 

// A devil-child is more like… like those fairy tales where the Wild Ones steal babes out of their cribs and replace them with creatures made up of mischief and magic… 'Fey Children'… Aye, that's a good word for you, Sydney… you are as /fey/ as Satan himself when it pleases you… Shall I tell you that when you wake, I wonder? Might that make you laugh? More likely you'd tear yourself open in the attempt. How do you do it, Sydney? No man should look as good as you do.Even when more than half dead, there is something about you… I don't understand… I know what I've seen but I still don't understand… And no matter what you say, Sydney… I have a feeling that I have very little time to get my answers from you. //

Too tired to eat, Ashley wrapped himself in the remaining dust-ridden blanket and, sword close at hand, propped himself against the thick wooden door. His instincts, both old and new, told him that there was no danger in the night, but training and habit made the actions natural and necessary. As drowsy as he was, his thoughts continued to flit and buzz, refusing to fix upon any one idea, but rather content to go where they would. He had been finding it very hard to concentrate since the events in Léa Monde but was willing to admit that it was likely a symptom of his over-tired brain. Keeping vigil on his companion, he tried to prepare himself for sleep, going over the events of the day in his mind.

* * *


	2. part 2

****

Ashes to Ashes: part 2

Fire reveals the light and the dark while dreams dissolve with the sun.

* * *

"…from that moment it 'twas as though we were of one mind, one blood."

-Sydney

* * *

It was late in the morning before Ashley was able to shake off the last of his bizarre dreams and crack open his eyes. The fire and candle had burned out in the night and the light coming in the windows seemed strangely muted, adding to the sleepy feel in the air. 

// There was a woman… a woman dressed in mists and veils and gems… and the men who watched her dance were driven to extremes of creation or destruction… and yet I felt nothing… as if I was but a ghost, the world was mad around me yet didn't see me… no one saw me but her… and her eyes were like the moon… but that was a dream, and this is real. I'm in a cottage… in the settlement of Arlia… //

His memory grudgingly surrendered facts from the night before as he slowly stood and stretched complaining muscles. In the dim light he could just make out the slim form on bed, placed exactly as he had been the night before, chest still moving in a steady and comforting rhythm.

// We broke free of the forest well past midnight, the town was already asleep for the most part so I had no choice but to leave him in a stable and ask at the tavern if there was a quiet house that would permit guests after hours… //

The villagers, rightly suspicious of the filthy stranger who had enter their midst assured him of a /very/ quiet house on the edge of town. 

// They were most certainly surprised when I took them up on their offer, I can believe they thought no one in their right mind would willing agree to spend the night in a house that until last year was rumored to belong to an old witch. Superstitious fools, as if sharing a room with the ghost of a little old woman would bother me in the slightest after walking the breadth of Léa Monde. Not that there was anything here when I arrived of course. //

Ashley dipped into the small bag of supplies he had all but bullied out of the barkeep. Sifting amongst the rolls of bandages and various foodstuffs he found several candles and re-lit the lantern and hearth. The cottage looked just as worn and dirty as it had appeared the night before, but feeling refreshed and alert the knight quickly realized that it had once been a very homey and comfortable place, even the thatch roof was tight and dry. Confident that Sydney would sleep the morning out, Ashley banked the small blaze and after finding a small pot in a cupboard ventured outside.

The village was far off the beaten track, a tiny impoverished place full of those who would in other times be called serfs. They were a full day's journey from the coast, and nestled in their little valley they had heard nothing yet of the cataclysm that had engulfed the ruins of Léa Monde, nor were they likely to for several weeks.

// If they had, they likely wouldn't have been quite so welcoming. //

The day was misty and wet, the rain fell softly but quickly soaked the fighter as he inspected the exterior of the house and well. The bucket was old but serviceable and the water when pulled out looked and tasted as it should so Ashley filled his pot and headed back indoors, promising himself a proper wash later on. Cleaning the little house while cooking a simple breakfast proved therapeutic for the Riskbreaker who frankly had had his fill of killing things for the time being. His hands swept and wiped from memory as his mind turned over the various problems he still had to face, foremost among them was how to put his companion back together again without alerting anyone unnecessary of their presence. Throughout the entire day Sydney slept on, his color improving slightly as his bleeding finally slowed then stopped. 

By evening the only thing in the cottage that hadn't received a thorough cleaning was Ashley. Locating a second bucket, he boiled more water, anticipating the luxury of his first real bath in days. A suitably nervous delegation from the town had approached him late in the afternoon to ask after the health of their visitors, and Ashley, having met them at the door assured them that he still lived, hadn't seen the ghost, but was in desperate need of a clean shirt. After a very brief conversation and the surrender of one of his less valuable stones, he was well contented with the bundle of food and clothes deposited at his doorstep. 

The bucket of warm water steamed into the cool evening air as Ashley meticulously scrubbed himself, thankful for the secluded location of the house. The shirt was too tight at the shoulders and he put it aside, but the pants were comfortable and clean and after soaking the last of the grime out of his hair he felt nearly human.

//… ashley?… //

The evening was filled with the usual forest noises as the Riskbreaker dumped the buckets, but for all his solitude, the sound of his name had been unmistakable. Looking around quickly, he continued tidying up and securing the house for evening. 

// Ashley?! //

The voice, startling, nearly caused him to drop the bucket into the well as he re-hung it. However Ashley didn't bother looking for his invisible petitioner again. The voice, louder now, had become recognizable as had its overtones of fear, worry and severe pain. 

// How is possible that he can make himself heard in my thoughts? // 

"I'm coming… I'm coming… be patient whelp." He shook the last of the water from his hair, his two long 'tails' still sticking to the sides of his face, and went inside.

* * *

Fumbling awkwardly for leverage in his nest of blankets Sydney awoke suddenly, feeling very disoriented. The bed was warm and soft, but he was disturbed by the fact that he could remember nothing of how he came to be there, or why he was so weak. Then he made a movement that upset the precarious stability of his bandages and froze as the pain washed over him. He remembered. 

// Guildenstern tried to skin me! //

Laying very still he focused on his breathing, waiting for the darkness and stars to lift allowing him to see again. Listening over his sobbing breaths for the sound of someone, /anyone/ nearby.

// By the Lady… That /hurt/ ! … I'm… alone?… //

Fighting the panic that threatened to rise up, he closed his eyes and tentatively reached out, finding the Rood-Bearer's mind with startling ease. 

// He burns so brightly now… I wonder is this how the others saw me? Why Ashley, what preoccupies you so… /Oh/… // 

Sydney pulled his mind away quickly. The flash of inadvertent 'contact' with the VKP's mind had brought the pleasant sensations of satisfaction and contentment, as well as a jumble of impressions, including the feel of warm water on bare skin. He suppressed the urge to blush and firmly told his imagination to shut-up, faintly glad for once that he couldn't in fact /see/ anything. Seeking to distract himself from what was certain to be a dangerous train of thought, he sent his mind out further to learn more of his surroundings. 

// I think the first thing I'll teach him about will be /shields/… while it's all fun and games for a normal man to have a mind like an open book, the Rood-Bearer ought to be … a little more discrete. //

Not stretching himself, he 'felt' the rhythms of the rest of the village. Sydney could sense nothing threatening, but tired and a little lonely he reached for the Riskbreaker again; and sensing that he had completed his bathing, attempted to call his name. His mental voice was surprisingly weak, brushing ineffectually against the bright light that defined Ashley. Sydney quickly realized that with the Rood no longer his, he would have to remember how to rely on his own /lesser/ strength. Focusing his energy on the task at hand he called again and felt definite contact, Ashley's presence filled his mind as the startled man instinctively sought to discover the source of the contact. Somewhat cautious of the older man's powerful and fumbling thoughts, the cultist pulled back inside his shields content that he had gotten his successor's attention and willing to wait for his return.

An Ashley, the likes of which he almost couldn't comprehend, padded through the door a few minutes later. 

// He looks… //

Sydney raised his head for a clearer view and blinked in amazement. Receiving a half-quizzical, half-annoyed look from the object of his study. 

// He looks so /young/… //

Caught in the half-light of the fireplace Ashley looked as though he might have been cast in bronze. The flickering light accented the smooth muscled contour of his bare chest and arms, and ghosted over the hard edge of his jaw. Focusing on his face Sydney noted amusedly how normal the Riskbreaker's 'antenna'-like fringes looked when they were wet and hanging straight in front of his ears. His dark hair and eyes seeming like smudges of shadow. They stared at each other for a moment, frozen by surprise and something else that neither could explain. 

* * *

Ashley broke off the staring match with an irritable snort, putting aside the queer urge to be embarrassed, and moving intently to the fireplace to check the stew. He could feel the enchanters eyes on his back, could see them still, wide and dark in the gloom, studying him in amazement. His shoulders twitched slightly not liking the feeling caused by the gaze sliding over the symbol now etched on his back. The fighter wondered idly if the Rood gave any visible sign of the tingling he felt between his shoulders, almost expecting to see it cast a flickering light of its own, a cold fire to mimic the ordinary one.

"Well, you got my attention," Ashley's voice was low hovering somewhere between amusement and frustration as he turned to face the younger man. "As glad as I am to see you awake, I'd appreciate in future if you /didn't/ startle me like that again. I have enough to worry about without having to concern myself with hearing voices." He looked closer at the blond, noting signs of fresh blood on the bandages. "It seems as though I should instead be wishing you slept the week out, your waking-up has wrought ill for both of us." Ashley's frown spoke volumes as Sydney guiltily allowed himself to be assisted into a sitting position. 

The bowl of stew which was carefully placed in his hands, defied him with its normalcy. Staring at it perplexed; Sydney cursed himself for a fool twelve times over, despising that he was so helpless in front of a man whom he had once dominated utterly.

// From ring-leader to invalid… in less than a day… thus does fate make fools of us all… he carries me, he cares for my wounds, he cleans, he even cooks… and by the smell he's far better at it than John or I ever were… All of this he does unstintingly, for what? So that I can keep breathing for another day… so that I can look down on him with my handful of years of study and experience and tell him "It will be alright"? I may have told many lies in my life, but I don't think I can tell that one. But for good or ill, I'm awake now… and it has come time for me to sing for my supper. //

"Eat, Sydney." The knight's smooth voice interrupted his meditations. "You've not broken fast for almost two days, much longer and you have no strength to heal yourself with." The blonde shook his head in an attempt to get his jumbled thoughts to cooperate and slowly coordinated his clumsy fingers to manipulate bowl and spoon. Without the Rood, actions that were once a simple as breathing required attention, and his arms, for so long an almost natural part of his body, felt heavy and awkward.

// I was right… he /can/ cook… damn the man. // 

Although he was not initially hungry he worked through the stew methodically and when the bowl was empty he wordlessly accepted the cup of watered wine. Throughout the quiet meal he felt the Riskbreaker's eyes on him, carefully observing his every move and noting every tremor in his uncooperative body. It was unnerving to be studied so, the dispassionate gaze bringing back memories of long forgotten tutors from childhood.

"Do you need aught else?" Ashley felt his muscles tensing, the need to get information from the frail man was almost unbearable yet he forced himself to wait. Rushing matters would only tire the prophet unduly and Ashley desperately needed the man to recover. Sydney shot him a knowing look over the rim of his mug and silently proffering it for more water, felt his old confidence returning. He had the information the man needed, well most of it, and in teaching the Riskbreaker about his new abilities he could stave off feeling useless for a few more hours.

"Ask what you will Rood-Bearer, I am completely at your disposal."

"Don't call me that." The knight grimaced at Sydney's playful tone before settling down to business. "There are so many questions that I honestly believe that it doesn't matter where I begin so I will start with the most recent ones… What you did just now, how did you do that, call to me without words…"

Sydney sipped at the water, composing his thoughts. "I did it in much the same way that you 'read hearts', I imagine, although it is more complicated than that… The Dark, provides many gifts to those who are willing to serve. These abilities can be divided into several categories be it far-sight, fore-sight, telepathy, empathy, kinetic abilities or even the ability to shape the very stuff from which worlds are made, what you would call sorcery. As Rood-Bearer you are unique in that if you choose you can do all of these things, although you will always have an affinity for those things you did best before… I for one could never get the knack of seeing through walls… /walking/ yes, /seeing/ no… thus Hardin's services were occasionally invaluable." The enchanter smiled bitterly. "The ability to speak with another mind-to-mind is not so far from what you previously experienced, but instead of passively "riding" your rhythm, I deliberately "matched" it, thus allowing an exchange of information. For an instant our minds were joined, so the thought I wished you to have, my calling your name, became realized in your head. Simple is it not?" He caught the Riskbreaker ruefully shaking his head in disbelief.

"Even when you try to speak plainly Sydney, your words sometimes baffle me." Ashley sighed and watched the fire for a moment, attempting to puzzle the new information out. "The idea of a person's rhythm is one I feel I grasp, but the rest, these are words I do not know. Tools of your particular trade perhaps?"

Sydney shifted a little attempting to find a more comfortable position. "Then let us start with those then, for it is very certain that you will be hearing them till you are sick of the sound by the end of your questioning." He noted the man's displeased face, and lowering his shields a little, recognized feelings of uselessness emanating from the man that echoed his own.

// Perhaps this won't be so bad, he is truly determined to learn despite his lack of understanding… Having to depend on him is acceptable because we will depend on each other… //

* * *

The cool air felt refreshing as he worked through his morning exercises. The patterns grew progressively more challenging, and the knight felt his focus returning as his sword cut clean lines through the mist. For a few minutes he allowed himself to put aside his increasingly odd dreams, and the lessons of the previous evening and simply let his body move in its deadly dance. 

// It's a hopeless task, really, what Sydney's trying to do… I'm a fighter, not a mage, it doesn't matter how powerful I am… my head's just not geared for such nonsense. //

Ashley lined up his strokes and exploded into a much faster paced routine, grinning as he felt his body flowing with the new strength that the Rood could provide.

// That at least I can handle, the increased physical attributes, what fighter in their right mind would be angry to find one day he was a little faster, a little stronger… even if it is /unnatural/ I can live with it… but the rest? Having to learn dead languages, studying spells, raising demons? What do I know of these things… /nothing/ What do I care for them … /nothing/. Mahaps Sydney did not choose as well as he had hoped… but then who else was there… I would not grant this /gift/ to any I called friend. //

The knight ended the dance abruptly, holding his final position and contemplating Sydney's alternatives. There was no one else, his conscience made it perfectly clear. The only others who could have handled the shock of the Rood had all been church-men and so their motives were highly questionable. Destiny or not, the prophet had apparently made the best of a poor selection. Thoughts of the man instantly brought him to mind, and Ashley felt a little guilty. Both men had stayed up late into the night. The blonde never impatient or short with the often repetitive and wide ranging questions that the Riskbreaker asked. When Ashley finally caught the cultist yawning thrice in the span of one answer he realized that the lesson had gone on for more than long enough. 

// And to think he protested when I told him to sleep. Something's driving him… almost as if he knows that he isn't … But no, he said he was /recovering/ I have to believe that… the alternative is unacceptable. //

Suddenly uncertain, the knight opened his mind a little, and concentrating being as un-intrusive as possible, reached towards the house. The man was still sleeping, his aura calm. It still felt strange, the shielding and the reaching, but the younger man had made a good case for its importance, and they had practiced the skills for some time. Ashley was gratified that the cultist did not once attempt to take unfair advantage of his 'open' mind like on earlier occasions. He always allowed the Riskbreaker his distance, allowing him to puzzle out the techniques on his own despite the fact that his solutions were often incorrect. Sydney's mind, a silver flickering, would carefully inspect each attempt, and gently show where the weakness lay. Finally Ashley built a wall around himself that Sydney could not slip past, and he watched in amazement as the mage threw progressively more and more energy at it until even the frail man was satisfied that it would do. 

// I shouldn't have let him do that… More than anything that must have depleted his reserves… If only magic would work! The only herbs to be found in this place are weak at best, and the supplies I found in Léa Monde are gone, lost during the final battle. //

* * *

"The Dark… I suppose it would be easiest to think of it like water… like the sea. It has its own patterns and rhythms you see. When you cast a spell using the Dark, no matter how simple or how complex, it is as if you are looking down at the water trying to catch your reflection…" Sydney's eyes were dark and distant as he struggled to put his explanation into understandable terms for the knight. "Yes, a 'reflection' is a good example… so when the water is calm, you look and see yourself easily. When the Dark is tame, it submits to shaping easily and thus magic is at its most potent. But like water, the Dark can have disturbances in it, ripples and shocks, they make it harder to actualize the shapings, thus your cantrips become less and less effective… until there is so much disturbance, /resonance/, that no matter how you try, you cannot compel it to take any form at all… like water, you must wait until it calms… or search out a safe-harbor in the storm." He looked up and smiled wryly at the Riskbreaker's thoughtful expression.

* * *

// But what if I carry the comparison another step…// 

Frowning Ashley re-sheathed his weapon. An idea that had been idling in his head since he awoke was suddenly blossoming in the front of his mind. 

// Something about the words "Safe Harbor." What if like water, different sources of the Dark, separated by natural boundaries, can be unaffected by the trauma of their neighbors? //

He stared idly at the low mountain ridges surrounding the village, so old and gentle that he almost hadn't noticed the climb in his hike through the woods. The stream he had followed had disappeared into a crevasse at the base of the hillside, apparently spilling forth from some deep fount. He had then pushed further, driving his tired limbs up and over the muted summit, relying on instinct to guide him through the remainder of his journey. 

// 'Basins' that's the word, if water can act differently in different basins… would not the Dark be similar? But what acts as the boundaries? Not simple mountains, surely… If we could reach such a boundary then we could find a place not affected by the destruction of Léa Monde. A place where magic will function normally…//

Ashley felt suddenly driven to move, to search, now that his mission was known. Moving softly he donned a coat, the black leather soft and supple with age and set off into the woods to attempt to meditate. 

// I don't know how Sydney did it… even in a village this small, all those minds, all those thoughts and emotions swirling, it's impossible to concentrate on anything with my shields down. It is akin to holding a conversation in a mob. Valendia will be a challenge, 'tis sure… so many people so close together. //

The woods were blessedly silent and when he was far enough from the town that he could drop his shields freely, he found a comfortable perch and began to search in earnest. The Dark, no longer drowned out by the incidental noises of the village, throbbed and pulsed through his mind, an almost hypnotic heartbeat. The Riskbreaker tapped it, and allowing his consciousness to flow out through the paths, attempted to prove or disprove his idea. 

The evidence was easy to find, it hit him like a well placed hammer to the chest as soon as his mind streamed up over the edge of the valley. The power spilling from Léa Monde burned behind his eyes like the sun, knocking the air from his lungs in response as he desperately pulled his mind free. Unlike the almost sluggish, mellow flows in the valley, the power of Léa Monde shivered and screamed twisting in maddening, impossible patterns. Ashley saw that attempting to tame this power would have been to risk utter insanity and dissolution. 

// And now I know what /resonance/ is… Gods, how could I not /see/ that when I was in the midst of it? And why was it stopped so abruptly at the line of the hills? Did I inadvertently stumble into exactly what I seek? How could that be… //

Ashley held out a hand and cautiously attempted the simplest spell he knew, a short couplet he had used often to purge all traces of poison from the blood. The Dark responded, but slowly, creeping into his hand rather like thick treacle. Willing himself to be patient, he coaxed it and after focusing it through the Rood-Inverse was at last able to unleash the spell. The result was naturally limited as he was in perfect health, but he gauged the intensity of the spell to be adequate enough to call the experiment a success. The consistency of the Dark had been troubling though, as torpid as it had been, pulling enough for a healing spell of the magnitude he required would take time.

// Luckily, /time/ is something I have in abundance this morning. As for the rest… maybe the Dark is like this when near a town… Rosencrantz did mention boundaries raised against it which surrounded the cities… but a hamlet this small… I think not… the church could hardly be bothered with the welfare of these simple people. No, there's something here… something that makes the Dark sleep… annoying perhaps, but if this is why the power of Léa Monde does not rage wild, I will not think too ill of it. Mayhaps Sydney will know more. //

Settling more comfortably, Ashley began to gently pull again; forming the gathering energy into a single mass and holding it inside himself with the Rood. The process was pleasantly methodical and he let himself doze slightly.

* * *

The cheerful afternoon sunlight filtered through the freshly cleaned windows and, as if to spite him, spilled directly across his pillow. Hauling himself into wakefulness like a swimmer breaking the surface, Sydney was content at first to simply tolerate it, waiting for his mind to fully grasp what it was that caused him to attain his current state.

// Still alive it seems… and alone… this is twice in two days, a new record methinks. //

Moving very slowly so as not to repeat the previous day's mistakes, the mage worked his legs under him and sat up. His shoulders were still raw and painful, but it was familiar and he welcomed it as a sign that he was still attached to the living world. Sydney was beginning to fear falling asleep. It wasn't that his dreams were ominous or even unpleasant, they were simply growing more intense. It was weeks prior to the events of Léa Monde that Sydney had started these dreams, and they came to him every night, always the same. Prophet that he was, he knew the meaning.

// I'm dreaming of the Shadow-Lands… of journeying to the center of the Dark… This isn't good… Please Lady… I need more time… just a little more time… not for myself but for /him/ he is not ready… //

" They /never/ are, child. "

A gentle voice whispered in the recesses of his mind and almost caused him to smile. It had been too long since she had spoken to him.

// Tell me that I can stay… that I can see him safely fledged… Please… I will give you anything you like… //

" Silly boy, you have already given me your life and soul, what do you have left? "

Her voice was full of dry humor but Sydney could hear the curiosity in her tone. He hoped that he still held a place in her affections as he assumed his most innocent tone and decided to take a risk.

// My obedience… ? //

" You are a sly one… Sydney. "

// I had an excellent teacher my Lady. Do I have the time? //

" Stubborn too. "

// It is said that no man may be fully altered from his fundamental nature, my Lady. //

" He means so much to you then, this Riskbreaker? More than /my/ love? You seem determined to choose him over me. "

// How could you say such a thing, of course I love you. It grieves me to think you find me so fickle. I just…. feel /responsible/ for him, that's all… //

" /responsible/ hmm? Very well troublesome child, be assured you will have all the time that it is in my power to grant… but you know what you must do… "

// I understand Lady, /thank you/ Lady… // 

" I admit your choice is … /interesting/. He possesses great strength but no ambition… we shall see what you can make of him, and after… we will see how obedient you can be… "

Sydney heard her laughter while her presence faded. The glow of his minor victory over Müllencamp was short lived however as he realized the magnitude of the task before him. There much to do, and little time.

// And Damned but I'm tired of hurting and being alone. Where /are/ you Riskbreaker! //

Sydney smirked remember how it still bothered the fighter to communicate mind-to-mind. Deciding to give the absent man a few more minutes to surface, He gingerly stood up and finding his legs sound, stumbled over to the hearth. The blonde had just finished leisurely making his way through his bread and cheese when his companion returned. The knight was curiously hunched over as though in pain but the grim satisfaction in his smile hinted at far more. 

"You're awake I see, good. I wasn't sure how long I could hold this." He stumbled against the door, motioning for Sydney to stay as he was when the young man rose to assist. "/I'm/ fine, it's just that this is harder than expected. I think… I think I have a surprise for you."

* * *

The mage watched in wonder as Ashley pulled himself up right and slowly joined him on the hearth. The knight's mind was tightly shielded, his plans unfathomable.

"I don't think I'm in much a mood for surprises Ashley, but as you wish, what is it? Are you injured?" 

"First things first… I think the bandages will get in the way of this…" 

Sydney suppressed a shiver as the Riskbreaker deftly worked to untie the knotted cloth on his chest. The man's hands were cold but held him steady as the more delicate work of removing the cloth from his back caused him to flinch in pain. At last satisfied that he could begin, Ashley allowed something of his satisfaction show in his face, determined to be able to gloat over the smaller man, even if it was absurdly childish. 

"I've decided I'm tired of taking care of you, so I have thought of an alternate solution." As Sydney blinked, confusion and alarm obvious in his face, Ashley gathered together the energy that was threatening to blow him apart. "I won't ask you to trust me, but I swear to you, here and now, I will help you… whether you like it or not." Sydney continued to stare at him and eventually nodded.

"I trust you."

Ashley sighed in relief, he had not wanted to compel the mage to cooperate and was ready to show Sydney what it was that he had wrought. In a planned move he dropped his shields and began casting, holding the younger man firmly by the arms. Sydney's eyes went wide as the tendrils of healing energy flowed through his body. His pain fading, he sighed in pure relief and sagged forwards in to the Riskbreaker's hands. The knight watched carefully as the deep wounds slowly sealed, and the new skin, pale and unblemished, creeped over the gaping sore. He concentrated on the comatose man, sending the energies deeper, trying to fill in the voids he sensed. Sydney's body accepted the energy voraciously but soon no matter how he tried, there were injuries that he could not comprehend.

// 'Tis as if as whatever is sent to repair the damage is bleeding out as fast as is added… He's much better to be sure, but these voids are troubling, if they cannot be sealed… he will eventually /bleed away/ … //

* * *

// I think I'm getting rather tired of passing out and being tucked into bed as well…//

Sydney opened his eyes and blearily tried to reassemble the events prior to his falling asleep. He found himself staring stupidly at the thatching and listening as random birds chirped their evening songs. He was carefully bundled-up the blankets, warm and comfortable, and he felt deliciously relaxed, in a way that he usually equated with just recently having had really good sex. Somehow that seemed rather unlikely though, and desperately feeling that he was missing something obvious, he suddenly sat up. 

"You seem to be feeling better."

Ashley's eyes were warm with concern and curiosity, and /very/ close, as the blonde met his gaze, startled. The knight had apparently dozed off while watching him and was half propped against the bed. His rather rumpled and drowsy appearance added to the list of incongruities that Sydney had begun to tally about the man. 

// He is both very much alike and then completely unalike what I expected. Not surprising, I suppose given how little we truly know of one another… I can no longer sense his memories, he no longer has Miss Callo with whom to scrye souls, and his particular heart-reading abilities don't seem to work with me. But /what/ has happened? I remember a /surprise/, he said something of a surprise… Ah well, the confusion is familiar enough, but at least I didn't wake /alone/… //

"Sydney." A warm hand on the young man's shoulder brought his attention back to the matter at hand and the cultist had an epiphany. Staring in wonder at the older man's worried face, Sydney cautiously rolled his shoulders and then deliberately stretched. Movements that used to be excruciatingly painful were suddenly as they should be. He was whole and unscathed for the first time since Léa Monde. 

"I'm…" words failed him. "You… how? How was this wrought? This is nothing I taught you… was it?" Sydney felt both profoundly grateful and shocked his student's precocious endeavor. He desperately wracked his mind for just /what/ had happened the previous evening that had inspired Ashley to go to the lengths he obviously had. 

"Both yes, and no…" Ashley chuckled ruefully. "It was what you said about "safe harbors," calm places hidden in the midst of more turbulent ones. It stayed in my thoughts as I slept, and this morning I followed my instincts and discovered that /this/ valley was precisely one such place… but I was hoping that you might know why? The Dark is calm here, 'tis sure, but it is almost too calm, as if it is sleeping… It also seems simply too convenient to my mind that we just happen to come to /this/ valley in our wandering…" 

Sydney frowned, mulling the Riskbreaker's words over in his mind. He was quickly distracted however as he stared at the dull finish on his arms and the dust and grime caked into his pants. The prophet could not suppress his growl of disgust and determinedly rising form bed gave the knight a sharp look.

"It can wait." Ashley blinked in shock. "I'm filthy, Ashley, I've been filthy for /days/." He stalked over to the pile of clothes the knight had rejected as being too small and riffled through them. "I want to bathe, /now/, I'll spin you tales until you're blue but, /after/ I'm clean, I beg you. Where's the well?" Following the silent man's vague gesture he gathered a bundle of clothes together and stormed out of the cabin fiercely shutting the door behind him.

The Riskbreaker stared in amazement at the door. The younger man's sudden burst of energy had been startling. 

// I guess… I guess I should've expected that. He was energetic enough in the city. God knows that the cultist managed to stay one step ahead of me right up until the end. I would have never considered him a fastidious person though… just shows how little I know… how does he manage it I wonder, with claws, did he get waited on hand and foot? Does he need help? //

Shrugging off the potential for embarrassment, Ashley considered joining the smaller man outside but changed his mind. Hoping to forestall any further shocks to his tired body, he reached out and touched Sydney's thoughts.

// Sydney. Do you need… did you find… is everything all right? //

A jumbled series of impressions flickered through his mind as well as the sound of Sydney's laughter. The prophet had obviously sensed something of Ashley's emotions as well as the words he projected. The man was shivering in the cool evening air as he pulled the bucket out of the well and stirred it with a claw.

// I'm /fine/, Riskbreaker. I have had my claws for several years now… you could say I've become rather adept at manipulating them. I suppose you left the soap somewhere? //

Seeing through the cultist's eyes was a little disorienting for the knight and he focused on keeping himself well grounded. Ignoring the potentially painful process of /becoming adept/ at tending to daily needs with claws, Ashley focused on the conversation at hand, certain that Sydney would pick up on his discomfort.

// 'Tis on the bench… I think. By the window… and stop laughing whelp it was an honest concern. //

// Yes /mother/ your concern is appreciated… but think, what ever would you have done if I /did/ need your help? //

// I would /help/ you, what else? //

* * *

Sydney allowed himself a happy chuckle as he carefully severed the strings holding his ragged pants to his hips and began the slow process of scrubbing the blood and dust from his body. The knight's simple answer was heavily laden with aggrieved overtones. The prophet decided that it was vastly more entertaining to tease the Riskbreaker then his previous companions in Müllencamp. Unlike his fellow cultists, Ashley's reactions were not tempered by fear or respect, only by the man's natural politeness. It was fun to watch the stern knight's composure waiver when faced with such every day /human/ interaction. 

// 'Tis like even he is startled to realize that under the training and cold reason, there remains somehow the man he must once have been. As little as I know… I think I like this man, he's more gentle than the /Riskbreaker/ ever could be, and I begin to see a sense of humor as well. What ever the VKP did to fashion their perfect soldier, it was monstrous to mutilate him so, to attempt to kill such a brilliant soul… //

Sydney shivered again as he poured the cold water over his body and began to carefully soap his hair grimacing as his sharp fingers occasionally clipped the strands instead of combing them. He hadn't been lying about being able to tend his own needs, his freshly cleaned skin attested to that. However there was no way to comb the knots out of his hair without using his claws and the sacrifices they entailed. Sighing, he rinsed his hair and drying himself he donned the new plants, satisfied with their dark color, and then reached out for a warm woolen robe.

// Adjustments… so many adjustments… but that is the way of things, and now it seems that I must come up with answers for my irate lawman. //

"Tell me Agent Riot, have you been /dreaming/ lately?" Sydney shut the door primly and claimed the bowl silently offered. The tall man took in his damp appearance seemingly unfazed while he pondered the question.

"Truthfully? Yes. But they're of a peculiar nature and quickly dismissed upon waking so I didn't think to trouble you."

"Tell me of your dreams, Ashley." Sydney stared at the man, forcing him to meet his eye. "They're likely far more important than you realize."

"They're nothing…" He grimaced at Sydney's doubtful expression. "As it please you then, but they make little sense, I find myself in a land of mist, where everything, the sky, the ground, everything is /gray/. Sometimes I am alone, sometimes I can see shapes, /shadows/, and hear voices. There is a woman as well… a very beautiful woman." Ashley trailed off suddenly, aware that he was rambling and looked up to see Sydney staring into the fire.

"Müllencamp."

The knight was uncertain how to reply to the word, sensing Sydney was deep within a memory. The cultist looked suddenly old and impossibly wise as he studied the flames. The firelight washed what little color was contained in his gray eyes out to pale burnished silver. Eternal and melancholy, Sydney's profile was magnetic.

"Sydney." Ashley was loath to shake the man but needed answers. "Sydney, what does this mean? Also, when I was healing you, there was something odd, Sydney I need you to stay here with me, /focus/, Damn You. This /gift/ will do me little good if I cannot control it. And I do not comprehend fully what is happening to me, or what I am seeing." His frustration and worry leaked into his voice despite his determination, and made it harsher than intended. The raw emotion seemed to jog the smaller man out of his trance, and his eyes focused on Ashley with disturbing intensity. 

"Then listen well Riskbreaker, for I will tell you all." 

* * *

* * *

Note: yeay made it through part 2! Having troubles figuring out how to NOT have every waking moment detailed for the sake of the sanity of the reader but hopefully these 'hints' at larger conversations are doing the trick…

So now we've met all the key players… Ashley, Sydney and Müllencamp! ("John" is John Hardin, Sydney's recently deceased…hmmm…. /Friend/ : ) ). Hurrah

Anyway next chapter is set 1.5 weeks later in Valendia, skipping to the action etc. If you want to know all the nitty gritty of being a Rood-bearer come whine to me after you get a Rood of your own! 

Lunar.

[www.roodinverse.homestead.com][1]

   [1]: http://www.roodinverse.homestead.com/



	3. part 3

****

Ashes to Ashes: part 3

Surrounded by people, Ashley finds himself alone, again.

  


* * *

  


"There are times in everyone's life when they have come to a definitive ending to 'what was' and a beginning to 'what is,' and naturally everyone's reaction is different. As for me? I prefer to walk away, beginnings and endings are difficult enough without them occurring in the same place."

-Ashley 

  


* * *

  


notes: "//...//" - thought, "..." - Kildean language

The city of Valendia was active and noisy even well after sunset. The taverns and inns were crowded with travelers and tradesmen all relaxing after the day's labors. In the wealthy districts on the edge of town the hulking estate of the Duke Barbadora sat in grim testament to the powerful Senator, black buntings hanging from the walls to signify the impending death of the ailing lord. Further towards the center of town, in the older and less reputable areas of the city, two cloaked men quietly made their way into an inn. The room was small and unassuming and the small windows allowed a limited view of the alleys and the capitol buildings beyond. Shedding his cloak for the first time since entering the city, Ashley set the pack by the wall and allowed himself to stretch. Sydney watched the knight work the kinks out of his back with a rueful smile, and settled on the bed with a small sigh of relief. The journey had not been long but the cultist had little energy despite his relative health.

// You look exhausted, Sydney... get some rest. //

The blonde blinked in surprise at the voice in his head and frowned at his companion. Despite the knight's constant protestations and stubbornness, he was becoming quietly proficient. The man was dressed entirely in black, and blended into the shadows, but his concern was readily apparent in his posture and thoughts. Sydney silently cursed himself for confessing /everything/ to the knight, if anything it had made the soldier even more paranoid about his 'charge's' well-being.

// There is no rest on earth that will delay the course of /this/ illness, Riskbreaker. It will happen when my work is complete, and no other time... I have some time left still. There is no rush. //

"They say that the Duke is receiving no guests, no one at all who is not the servants or the priest. How do you propose to get us /in/ to the mansion, Sydney?" The Riskbreaker's low voice broke the silence as he inspected the view from the window.

"Not /us/ Ashley, just me." The cultist ignored the sharp look aimed at him. "This is something I must do myself, it does not concern you." Determined not to be argued down, Sydney met the knight's hard gaze with one of his own. 

"It is dangerous."

"He is my /father/." Sydney sighed and looked away, unwilling to acknowledge the hurt that he saw in the other man's eyes at being so callously dismissed. 

"There is little more you can do for me Agent Riot, there is nothing more to teach, and no time left if there was. I have been a considerable burden to you, and now I think it best that you leave the city. I warrant that by tomorrow at this time it will not be safe if you are found still here. But to answer your question... How will I get in? Simple, I will use your face." He allowed a grim smile as Ashley turned in shock and stalked over to the bed. 

"Think. Everyone will think that you are returning to report information of the city's destruction, he will allow an audience with you, if no one else. When we are alone I will explain things to him and we will do what must be done." Sydney's hand reflexively sought out the ruin-covered blade at his belt, his family's prized relic.

// Please let him not push this... it will be hard enough to do this without him following... worse really, If I allow him to discover how little I want this... //

Wrapping his tightest shields around his mind the cultist curled into himself a little as if seeking additional warmth under his cloak. It seemed as though he was always cold now, his life energies draining away. If nature would be allowed to run its course it would be difficult to determine whether father or son had more time remaining. But of course that was the whole point of coming to the city, to defeat nature and the blood pacts sworn years ago. 

"Very well." The older man perched on the edge of the bed watching the blond expressionlessly. His proximity caused Sydney to fidget slightly and sit up straighter. "I understand." The low voice grudgingly allowed. "I don't like it, but I understand. And if it is all the same to you, I think I had better stay, just to see you safely in the door." The knight rose suddenly, needing to distract himself from the blonde's confused face, and began to pull the last of the provisions from the pack.

The two men ate quietly neither knowing how to break the silence without causing hurt or offence to the other. Ashley mentally formed a list of everything that could go wrong with the young cultist's plans and was ambivalent about giving the man a high chance of success. Sydney's thoughts continuously strayed to regrets. He could not help but dwell on mistakes made, and choices that had forced his hand.

// Even knowing the sum and total of my future as I did, knowing the moment and nature of my own death, I am not ready. I was so stupid, naïve, really... what was it she said? "You will search for your heart's ease for your whole life but you will only find it in death." It made no sense at the time, or rather, I assumed it was referring to /her/, she was the only one who ever touched my heart then. Ironic really, that she probably knew all along that the assumption was false, because here /he/ is... and it's staring me right in the face, a universe of possibilities that are denied to me. What a hideous joke, to go and fall in love at a time like this. John would laugh himself sick... then he'd say "Well, better late than never." As if that made everything better. //

Sydney offered no further complaint as the knight methodically unlaced his boots preparing to tuck him into bed like a truant son. His body stiff and weak, he was oddly comforted by the gentle ministrations. The older man's face was inscrutable as ever as he watched over the blonde, perched again on the edge of the bed, and the cultist was reminded again of John Hardin.

// I remember once I was sick, it must have been right after the Rood was branded into me since that was the last time felt ill. I was sick and John watched over me all night, very like this. I wonder if he loved me even then, misguided idiot, I never deserved it, certainly never asked for it. Still... for a while it was nice, he asked so little, and was so warm... but he knew I couldn't... that I didn't really... forgive me, John, you were always the better man. //

Exhausted but determined, the dying prophet studied the knight in the dim light. There was a definite pride in knowing that he had chosen a powerful successor. It was almost enough to distract him from his guilt at the way he forced the role onto the man, and the assorted fears he had for tomorrow.

// He isn't as strong as I was, /of course/, and he can't speak a lick of Kildean... He'll never be a true proficient at all I suppose... but still... he'll do. He will do very well. I only hope he will forgive me in time... and If only I weren't so /cold/! //

"Ashley." 

The man blinked, returning from his own reverie at the sound of his name, and raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

"Grant a last request for a dying man?" Sydney fought to keep his voice light and playful despite the slight tremors wracking his body.

"Humph." Ashley's grunt was decidedly non-committal but his friend's eyes softened slightly and he moved to brush a lock of hair from the blonde's face.

Sydney steeled himself wondering what the knight's reaction would be. "Hold me?," he hastened to elucidate, seeing the man's blank look. "Just for a little while, until I fall asleep, I'm just so... cold..." The cultist trailed off, expecting the other man to pull away.

The hand touching Sydney's hair did fall away but the young man tried not to look disappointed. He closed his eyes and refused to watch as the man rose from the bed. The prophet was therefore surprised then to hear the soft sounds of first boots, then swords and belts, being dropped to the floor. Deciding to take a peak, his eyes opened just in time to be gently prodded towards the edge of the bed in order to make more room for an additional occupant. Not knowing what to do, Sydney lay still allowing the other man to settle himself comfortably. One strong arm lifted him a little and with no effort he found himself resting his head on a well-muscled shoulder, wrapped in a warm embrace. Sydney felt his shivers slowly cease as the body-heat warmed him and instinctively sought to burrow his face into the base of Ashley's neck, feeling the arms around his torso squeeze slightly in response.

  


* * *

  


"Thank you." 

The prophet's voice was barely a whisper against the knight's throat, his body limply draped against his under the warm blankets. Ashley carefully noted that the younger man had thoughtfully positioned his 'arms' so the claws would be of minimal risk to his new pillow. Certain the younger man would be asleep in a matter of minutes, the knight settled himself more comfortably and reminded himself to keep his hands chastely on his companion's back. Sydney's body, always slight was now almost gaunt, seeming a feather light collection of bones and sinew in his arms. Even by the poor light cast from the windows, Ashley could marvel at the differences in their coloring, the cultist's skin seeming almost milky in comparison to his own darkly tan and callused arms. Listening to the younger man's soft breathing, he could almost pretend that he was holding his wife, that it was her blonde hair tickling his nose; almost.

// Tia... I miss you. But it seems that you were right, as much as I loved... love you still, I cannot remain a automaton forever. This boy who is barely a man, somehow he has reminded me of what it was like, life with you, life before loosing you. I didn't want to care, but I do, he needs /someone/ so badly now... We are both of us alone in the world. Is caring for him so wrong? Am I adding to my sins by allowing him into my life? I cannot believe that you would be cross with me, although it seems I will be forever cursed to act too late to save those who rely upon me. May god grant him the strength to complete his appointed task and find the peace he deserves, and me the strength to carry his burden wisely. // 

Ashley smoothed the blonde's hair, stroking the fine strands as he used to stroke Marco's when the boy was small. The sleeping man relaxed into the calming touch and let out a small sigh. There was an almost forgotten comfort to be found in sharing a bed with another person, the feel of Sydney's heart beating was pleasant against his skin. Surrendering to the flow of events Ashley allowed himself to fall into a restful doze ready for whatever the next day offered.

  


* * *

  


The Duke's estate was a grim as ever when the two men studied it from a convenient alley sheltered from the rain. The building was mostly dark and uninhabited, the guards at the gate already wore bands of black on their armor and shields for their ailing master. Rumor among the common folk in the area was that the old man was not expected to last beyond the dawn two days hence. 

"It is time." Sydney was content with the calmness in his voice. It gave no hint as to his anxiety. Ashley wordlessly put a large, gloved hand on his arm, and squeezing it briefly, met his eyes. The prophet saw for once the myriad of emotions swirling in his companion's face and not knowing what else to do he nodded solemnly and stepped towards the gate. Between one footfall and the next his cloaked form wavered, and in his place stood the Riskbreaker, dressed as he was upon entering Léa Monde. The new Ashley looked back a moment at the real one, and gave a jaunty wink before smartly saluting the guards at the gate.

"I have an urgent report for the Duke, he's expecting me." 

As Ashley watched in the shadows he smiled at the surreal experience of hearing himself arguing with the guards. Despite the quality of Sydney's shaping, if he concentrated, he could detect the ghostly double image, Sydney speaking and gesturing violently as the fake-Ashley did the same. At length the man was allowed in, and whistling merrily, moved quickly from site.

// I do /not/ whistle. // Ashley snapped the thought at the departing man's back.

// You do now. Get moving Riskbreaker... you should go. // 

Sydney's voice was warm and teasing in his mind. The knight was suddenly anxious that he would never hear it again and was determined to remember it. 

// Ever the joker, whelp? Take care... //

// No man can be fully altered from his fundamental nature. And stop /worrying/ I already told you, no Rood-Bearer ever truly dies, we simply join with the Dark. I will be with you, always. //

The strong feeling of laughter tinged the otherwise serious words and Ashley felt the cultist draw away from the contact, needing to concentrate on his surroundings. The knight pulled himself deeper in the shadows and crossing his arms against the chill air, and settled himself to wait.

  


* * *

  


// 'Tis amazing how little this place has changed, really. How long was it since I played in these halls, 15, 16 years? After all that's happened you'd think that I'd have forgotten it, or that his new wife would've redecorated. Poor woman, son gone, husband dying, you have no idea of what is going on, do you? Ah well, it's probably better that way. //

'Agent Riot' made his way unerringly to the Duke's apartments and waited to be announced. The seneschal returned quickly, his face full of amazement and silent ushered him into the brightly lit bedroom. Sydney felt his father's curious gaze upon him but waited until the door closed once more, leaving them alone, before dropping the illusion. The young man offered his father a tentative smile and when it was returned, he moved to stand near the head of the bed. 

"...Well met, Sydney."

// Indeed father, all is well, the city is destroyed and Joshua is safe. // 

The prophet projected his reply with a silent smile, guaranteeing that their secrets remained so.

"So, it is done... You have suffered much. I, too, have played my part. Let us leave the rest to this Ashley. He is the one you have chosen... I know what must be done." The old man was too tired to project as his son had, hoping that any servants or spies listening at the door would not comprehend his cryptic comments.

// It is true, death by /this/ blade will rend a soul from its contract with the Dark, father, so if it is still what you wish... //

The old man nodded in assent and took the blade from the blonde. "...I was not much of a father to you. Forgive me, my son." Sydney moved to embrace the old man who had once been the center of his world, and then pulled away, the rune-blade embedded in his chest. 

// Father...? Why? //

The cultist felt the dagger pulling at Müllencamp's wards, his body dissolving into the air. 

// I could not allow my son to suffer the cursed-fate in my stead, I decided... that we should be free... together. //

The old man's thoughts were the weakest of whispers as he exerted himself to gather up the dagger that had fallen through his son's now immaterial body. He watched for a moment as the prophet faded from view, returning to the spirit realm, and then took action once more. Bracing himself carefully, the old man held the dagger to his chest and let himself fall face first into the floor, the weapon embedding itself in his chest. Unlike his son, the Dark had been purged from his body long ago by baptism and blessing. His old and withered corpse remained behind as his spirit stood up, and satisfied that all was right, moved on to discover what lay beyond. The body, collapsed in a heap, was left on the floor, only to be discovered by a terrified servant minutes later. The Duke missed the excitement entirely.

  


* * *

  


Sydney was rather surprised to discover, when the disorienting shifting was done, that he was in a place entirely new. The Dead-Lands and the Shadow-Lands were familiar to him as were hundreds of other planes, having walked them all in his dreams as a Rood-Bearer. However, in those walks he had always been accompanied by Müllencamp, it was she who affected the portals, he was merely a tourist. Now he found himself alone, standing on a small white floor surrounded by what could only be the Seas of Chaos, the non-stuff that existed between realities, swirling and almost painful to his eyes. He hoped that his father had found better luck in his own after-life.

// This was /not/ part of the plan. It was a tender sentiment, father, but /freedom/ wasn't really what I wanted right now... especially if it means I'm lost in Limbo forever. //

Suddenly he found his little island shifting. Growing in a liquid fashion from the floor were two doors, both of a rather simple style. Sensing someone behind him, Sydney turned and released a sigh of relief to see the Goddess Müllencamp smiling gently at him beneath her gauzy veils. 

"Not part of the plan indeed... /You/ were supposed to stab /him/... /his/ freedom I was willing to allow, but /both/? He tests my generosity. Still, what is done is done, and he, at least is beyond my power to praise or punish... so all that remains is /you/, troublesome child." 

The dusky woman caressed his face in an almost maternal fashion and he smiled whimsically. The ancient language sounding delightfully natural coming from her mouth, a living breathing dialect once more.

"Pondering how to coax a stolen sheep back into the fold, my Lady? I fear I must admit that I had never intended to be liberated in such a scandalous fashion, but then maybe I should hold off asking to return in order to see what inducements you can offer me."

"Insolent boy," Sydney ducked the playful swat she aimed at his head. "You will get no additional inducements from me, you are spoilt enough, besides I have your word that you would be obedient once you were here... it is because of that promise that I was able to catch you at all, and yet you /are/ free... Thus you see, the Doors. The first Door leads to the Dead-Lands, step through it, and you can join your father in seeking out Heaven or Hell or even rebirth as it please you. The second Door, that Door is /mine/. You must choose." Sydney returned her steady gaze for a moment, wondering if it was possible to made a Goddess nervous. Finally he shrugged and moved towards the second door.

"No sense teasing you, my Lady. You know perfectly well where my preferences lay, and besides, you can get catty when you feel you've been slighted." He smiled broadly at her sour look and decided a final jab was in order. "Besides, if I didn't come, you'd be stuck with having to teach the new Rood-Bearer Kildean all on your own, something I don't think /either/ of you has the patience for. Face it, my Lady, you /need/ me." The Goddess' only reply was to stick out her tongue, and laughing, Sydney executed a florid bow while holding the door open, following the woman into the mists beyond. 

  


* * *

  


The dark alley provided little distraction for the Riskbreaker as he waited for a sign from the house. The guards patrolled the street in a lazy pattern, their occasional soft curses at the rain reached him with eerie clarity. Ashley could feel Sydney's presence easily, by now he was likely reunited with his father. There was no warning in Sydney's aura to prepare him when it suddenly disappeared, snuffed out like a candle at the window. Moving out of the shadows, Ashley stared in disbelief at the large manor, reaching out with his thoughts for any clue as to what had just happened. He could sense a brief flicker as the Duke died but nothing from his friend at all. Murmuring a curse he Reached again, and finding a nurse waiting with the Seneschal outside the bedroom, attempted to 'ride' her rhythm. For a moment, nothing happened, and it occurred to Ashley that this was the first time he'd ever used the gift deliberately. The connection was quickly made however, and after a moment of disorientation he was able to see through her eyes. 

  


* * *

  


"It's time for his medicine." The nurse, Maddie, put a hand to her forehead feeling suddenly a little faint. The feeling passed however and she dismissed it as a symptom of working so hard the past few days. The deathwatch had begun and /everyone/ was tense.

"I know, I know, but his lordship insisted that he /not/ be disturbed with this visitor, that it was very important. It's odd really, I've never seen this Riskbreaker before, how did the Duke know to expect him..." the old man toyed with his goatee thoughtfully.

Ashley gritted his teeth in annoyance, desperate to see what had happened in the room. Very gently, trying to play off of the woman's natural suspicion and worry, he goaded her to action. 

"They've been in there /alone/ for almost half a hour, Sir, and it's been so quiet... don't you think perhaps /someone/ should check on him? The doctor was very explicit in his instructions, the Duke is not to be excited!" The woman allowed a little righteous indignation into her professional voice, knowing she was on firm ground once the doctor's orders were mentioned. Ashley sighed in relief as the Seneschal nodded in agreement and moved to knock on the door. 

There was no answer to either the taps, or the nervous verbal hails that followed. Mistress Maddie stood by, medicinal bag at the ready as the door was reluctantly opened and the servants took in the curious scene. The Duke's bed was in disorder, the man seemingly having slid out of it and taking the majority of the blankets with him to the floor. As Maddie moved closer she gasped in shock as she, and thus, Ashley, saw the crumpled Duke's body on top of a pile of blood-soaked sheets. There was a long and lethal looking dagger piercing the old man's chest, the hilt lost from view under his body. The nurse began to scream frantically as the Seneschal ceased all gentlemanly pretense and swore a sharp oath. Ashley exerted his will again, rooting the terrified woman to the spot and watched carefully as several footmen worked to untangle the old body from the sheets and place him back upon the bed. Their confused mobbing around the corpse effectively destroyed any footprints Sydney might have left in the carpet, making the disappearance of the assailant even more of a mystery. The Seneschal quickly put two and two together and called out the guard, ordering them to hunt down and capture a Riskbreaker by the name of 'Ashley Riot' for the crime of murder.

  


* * *

  


// Wait... that's /me/! Damn you and your games Sydney! So this is why you wanted me to leave at once, you were never planning on leaving his side, the two of you went /together/, leaving /me/ the last man reported to see the Duke /alive/! //

"Bloody Hell!," Ashley swore aloud and accidentally caught the attention of the guards.

"Who walks there at this hour? What is your business? Show your papers!" One of the guards moved towards him threateningly. Still swearing Ashley reached for the Dark within and spun the first illusion he could think of, his form shrinking in to the more delicate lines of Agent Merlose.

"Callo Merlose, VKP Inquisitor." Ashley pantomimed the woman holding out her badge. 

The guard paused, surprised at the woman's cold precision. "M-my lady! I beg your forgiveness!"

Agent Merlose shrugged and stowed her badge in her coat, "It is no matter. You are merely doing your duty." Ignoring the man's stuttered thanks Ashley turned and quickly strode into the night. He had no intention of getting caught in the witch-hunt that was sure to begin at any moment. Dropping the illusion once in the safety of the shadows he sprinted silently down the empty streets, seeming nothing but a cold breeze to the few souls still about. 

In the momentary stillness of what had been /their/ room at the inn, Ashley sat to catch his breath. Even with his shields firmly in place he could feel the city rousing, the spark of uproar, started at the Duke's estate, had been fanned into a fire, and as more and more people woke to the cries of alarm, the disturbance continued to grow. The noise was becoming deafening to Ashley's new and delicate senses. It was time to go. Shouldering the pack, he stared once more at the still rumpled bed, almost seeing the ghostly after-image of himself and the mage as they had been mere hours ago. Two people lying quietly content in each other's arms, shrouded in a warm pile of blankets. The knight could still hear Sydney's voice as the smaller man detailed his plan of attack.

  


* * *

  


"We will do it after dark, illusions are always easier to believe then. I will go in /alone/ as you... don't interrupt!" Sydney prodded the Riskbreaker with a sharp claw to stop him from voicing an objection. The cultist raised himself enough to look Ashley in the eye. "I go in /alone/. We decided this already." Receiving the older man's reluctant nod, 

Sydney happily settled himself again in the curl of the loose embrace. "You, my pugnacious ally, will /wait/ outside, unless you decide to show a sudden burst of sense and realize you should leave the vicinity...? No...? I thought as much." Sydney smiled at how deep his companion's growl sounded when he had an ear to the man's chest. "When my business is completed, I will rejoin you /outside/ and we will depart, quietly and quickly... I have no intention of spending my final hours in a city that smells so strongly of holy-incense." 

Sydney's voice was full of humor but his muscles were tense. Not knowing how to respond to the man's strange mood, Ashley focused on keeping him relaxed, gently rubbing his shoulders until the man calmed again and released a chuckle.

"I think I now know why Müllencamp doesn't speak to you yet, by the way, although I admit it did puzzle me at first... I think it is that she's never learned to speak French. My father certainly never used it with her when /he/ was Rood-Bearer, and I was taught the ancient languages almost before I could read, so I never needed to use French either. But you, you barely know any Latin, much less an antiquated dialect of it, she knows not how to make you understand her, I wager. Ah me, the irony of it all, even goddesses are not what they're advertised to be, maybe if she draws you /pictures/ of what she wants done..." 

Ashley couldn't help but allow a mellow laugh as his imagination supplied him with the possibilities for /that/ idea. Sydney propped himself once more to watch him, delighted.

"So /at last/ the man laughs, very timely Ashley, very timely... Had you waited much longer, I would've missed it! /Anyway/ as much fun as sleeping late was... I'm starving. Feed me!"

"Feed yourself, whelp."

"Show some respect old man, just because I'm not the Bearer anymore doesn't mean that I can't make you suffer."

  


* * *

  


Ashley blinked, snarling at his own inattention, and dismissed the haunting sounds of laughter from his mind. Two weeks ago he had been a man on a mission to discover the identity and agenda of the mysterious cult prophet, Sydney Losstarot. Two weeks ago he had had a life, an identity, a purpose, and twelve days ago those had all changed. Oddly enough, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the past handful of days were likely among the happiest in his life, certainly since Tia died. For the first time in years he had simply been himself, and it had frightened him that he hadn't remembered how, not until Sydney had coaxed it out of him. Now that the mage was gone, Ashley found himself once more at loose ends. He was no longer a knight, or a Riskbreaker, but neither did he wish to join with the cult. 

The man walked calmly out of the city and picked a road at random letting his enhanced instincts show the way. He didn't care where he ended up, just so long as there were very few people. The Rood-Bearer's strides carried him north with surety, the dusty road's regular traffic paid the man little attention. He was just one more nameless wanderer, another sell-sword, another vagrant in search of peace. 

  


* * *

  


* * *

  


Notes: Oh my goodness oh my goodness! We've made it to the end of volume 1 girly scream Only 12 more volumes to go... full body, toes-in-the-air face fault, /THUD/ 

My chibi-Ashley and chibi-Sydney have popped the cork on a bottle of 'Sparkling-$8.99' which I'll hazard is a /terrible/ year, and worse, non-alcoholic but what the hell, we're celebrating, and we can always give the rest to my rose bush which oddly decided to bloom this week, odd being that this is almost December... (it's an indoor, that explains it I think).

Special thanks! To the GIA's superb web-site for it's raw fodder for my new web border, also a huge thank you to the techno-mancer web-site for their lovely lovely script from which I needed to borrow in order to get the ending dialog correct, I've beaten the game 4 times now and still can't memorize it word for word J Go to their web page and read the whole thing for spoiler laden madness.

Explanations? Hmmm for those of you still chanting "they're just friends" out there... well, you lose, sorry. Just adjust it a little to, "Ashley thinks that they're just friends..." and you should be fine for another chapter or 2. For those who think Müllencamp is a little silly, you're right, she is. She's also a little crazy, but I'll get into that later. I like her a lot actually, I was never a big fan of stuffy know-it-all gods anyway, I prefer the smaller homegrown variety. For some reason I see her and Sydney as a very melodramatic and frivolous pair... whether they bring out the best, or the worst in each other I will leave as an exercise to the viewer. Ah yes and the "Why is Sydney being so aggressive in this chapter?" question... well damnit I wasn't going to detail every moment of their 2 weeks together... lets just say they became friends. And hell Sydney's got the proverbial 24 hrs to live, of course he's gonna try to wheedle some snuggles. It's like getting that last margarita when the bartender announces closing time.

Hey did anyone catch the semi-blatant Star Wars refrence?

Lunar.

[http://www.roodinverse.homestead.com/][1]

   [1]: http://www.roodinverse.homestead.com/



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